Of Lions and Swans
by A Vermilion Memory
Summary: This is a series of Éomer/Lothíriel vignettes that are completely independent of one another. All one-shots. And please forgive the unoriginal title. I'm no good at titles.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first attempt at an Éomer/Lothíriel pairing. I've started dozens of stories for the two of them, and never manage to get past the first few chapters. So I figure, why not a series of one-shots? This is the first installment of what I hope will be a happy little set of vignettes. I hope you all enjoy it, and I would love to hear your feedback!

XOXO

Vermillion

* * *

She did not hear him enter the garden at first, so he took a moment to observe her. Her thick, curly hair was pinned up on her head, off her neck and a few little curls were sticking to the back of her neck. Her form looked slim under the pale dress she wore, and she was not nearly as tall as he expected. The sleeves on her dress were elbow length, revealing the smooth, slender expanse of her arms. All around, a very pleasing young woman to look at. He cleared his throat to announce his presence and he saw her shoulders stiffen. She set down her small spade slowly and stood to face him. He was met by a pair of enormous blue eyes that looked neither surprised nor startled to see him, merely resigned. He was surprised to see that she was not tanned like her brothers. Her skin was pale and apparently freckled with the addition of plenty of sunshine.

"King Éomer." Her voice was flat as she curtsied.

"I am pleased to meet you, Princess Lothíriel." Best to start out courteously, he thought. She was surely not pleased about all of this.

"I wish I could say the same." Her brothers were right, she spoke her mind. He chuckled.

"I am not in the least bit surprised to hear you say that." She frowned at him, and those mesmerizing eyes narrowed.

"Why are you here?" She demanded, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I came hoping to explain everything to you." He replied, taking a cautious step toward her. "I wanted to speak to you myself about the whole betrothal and marriage thing." Her frown deepened.

"I don't think there is any need for you to speak to me about it." She told him. "It seems you've all decided everything so well without me, there is really no need to discuss it with me now."

"Ah." Éomer nodded his head, understandingly, but that set her off.

"Don't you 'Ah' me like you presume to know how I feel!" she snapped at him. "You have the gall to make an offer for my hand without meeting me or giving me the privilege of meeting you, and then stroll into my PRIVATE garden like you have every right. Well you don't! And I don't want you to explain anything to me!" Her cheeks were flushed and she was out of breath after her tirade, and he decided right then and there that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met and would never want to marry anyone but her.

"You could give my advisors a few lessons." He told her as she stomped back over to her gardening tools and set about ripping out weeds.

"Shut up." She spat. "Your presence is vexing enough without having to hear you speak." He suppressed a laugh and stood in silence while she dug angrily for a few moments. Finally, she drove her spade into the dirt and stood to glare at him. "Do you want to know what makes me really angry?" When he did not answer she continued. "You did not even write me. You knew all along that I would not have a choice in the matter, but you didn't even write me, asking me yourself. All I got was a really official looking document that my father passed along to me." She sighed and slumped down on the edge of one of the vegetable beds. "It just would've been nice to be included in the process, even if I didn't get any say so."

"I'm sorry, Lothíriel." He sat down next to her hesitantly. "I would have asked you personally, but your father made it sound like you would want no part in the process, and I would do best to leave you alone."

"Well, he was wrong." She murmured, plucking at a thread on her dress. He suddenly felt bad for his behavior. She had no input in the future chosen for her and he had the nerve to interrupt what was surely the only solitude she got from the mad flurry of activity now surrounding her.

"Lothíriel, please forgive me." She looked up at him, her pale cheeks tinged with pink. "It was wrong not to write you. And I'm sorry for imposing on your privacy. I am sure you get so little of it these days." He stood. "I will take my leave of you and perhaps we may continue this discussion at a more convenient time." He turned to walk away, but her voice stopped him.

"No. Don't leave." She was standing, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. She would not meet his eyes. "I'm sorry I shouted at you, it was very unbecoming of me." He stepped up to her, taking her small, dirty hands in his.

"No, you had every right to dress me down the way you did." He smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. "It was wrong of me to impose myself on you the way I have." He met her eyes, discovering that those beautiful eyes were framed by long, thick lashes.

"I wouldn't have minded so much if you would have acknowledged me the beginning." She told him. "The way things went, it felt like you were more interested in the strengthened alliance with Gondor than you were in marrying me." He laughed lightly.

"Believe me, Lothíriel, the allure of the alliance pales in comparison to you." He watched her blush again and without thinking, cupped her cheek in his hand. It was silky soft, just as he expected. "Besides, alliances do not warm a bed in winter." That blush deepened, but she met his eyes squarely.

"I hope you mean that." She told him, and then moved away, as if she anticipated the kiss he was preparing to plant on those delicious looking lips. "Perhaps I could give you a tour of the garden?"

"That would be wonderful." Éomer welcomed the distraction. His thoughts were straying down less than chaste paths, and a thorough description of every exotic plant would surely help redirect them.

She took his offered arm and they started down the path together. "I grow mostly fruits and vegetables here." She told him pointing at the largest, southernmost part of the garden. "It gets full sun every day and the cook is always happy to have the produce in the summer. There are carrots, tomatoes, a very spicy pepper that comes from Harad, peas, and a few different varieties lettuce." She motioned to each of the beds. "Over here," She led him toward the garden wall that was covered with climbing vines. "I am growing raspberries. This is their second year, and I am optimistic that we will have a good crop of berries. You see, the first year, you have to pinch back all the blossoms so that the plants will use all their strength to grow and not bother with producing berries. The growing season was good last year, and the have grown marvelously. We will let them blossom this year." She looked up at him and blushed. "I'm sorry. Is this boring you?" He shook his head.

"Not at all, you seem very knowledgeable about the plants."

"This was my mother's garden." She told him. "I would work out here with her everyday when I was younger. After she died…" Here she paused. "After she died, no one came out here for a long time."

"How did she die?" Éomer hoped she would not consider this prying. She started pulling up weeds, and did not speak for a moment.

"She died of a fever. We both had it, actually. I am told that I was near death more than once myself, but I don't remember any of it. I was unconscious. When I finally woke up, my mother was dead and already buried." She sighed and collected all the weeds into a pile.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She scooped up the weeds and deposited them in a nearby bin. "Everything happens for a reason, even if it takes us years to see the reason." She brushed her hands off on her dress. "I've gotten along well enough without her, although…" She paused, as if weighing whether or not she ought to say something. She shrugged. "I do wish she was here now. I know she would sit me down and say to me 'Now, Lothíriel, I know this is all very distressing right now, but I promise you it will all work out for the best. Why, your father and I had an arranged marriage, and I could never love anyone more than I love him. You just have to be sensible about it and commit yourself to making things as happy as you can.'" Éomer was in front of her in one move, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

"I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

"I know." She looked up, meeting his eyes. She was so beautiful and vulnerable in that moment.

"Besides," He whispered, leaning down to claim her lips in a kiss. "I love you already."

_The End_


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, all! I apologize for the delay in publishing this. It's been a couple of incredibly hectic weeks at work, and my brain has been toasted. I hope you enjoy this installment! XOXO Vermilion

It was a fine spring day like any other. I was holed up in the garden with my nieces and nephews, telling stories and playing games. I loved the children dearly, and despite the early disapproval of my family, took it upon myself to look after them. I maintained that there was no need for governesses as long as I still lived at home. _While I still lived at home..._ I could feel my throat constricting at the mere idea.

I knew that my father was in negotiations with King Éomer of Rohan for my hand, and the thought of leaving home pained me. I trusted my father implicitly, though. He loved me, and I knew that he would never marry off his youngest child and only daughter to anyone he did not hold in the highest esteem. Such knowledge did not offer much comfort, though, and I pushed thought of marriage and leaving home forcefully from my mind. It was a fine day and the children would surely be eager for a game of hide and seek.

Our private gardens in Minas Tirith were much smaller than the gardens back home in Dol Amroth, so there were fewer hiding places to be found. We played several games before the afternoon meal. Servants brought out a variety of breads, meats, cheeses, and sweet things. My brother Elphir's wife, Silmarien, came out to nurse their youngest, a sweet baby girl of six months. "Are they behaving for you today, Lothíriel?" She asked as she settled down on a bench, a blanket draped modestly over shoulder.

"Oh, Silmarien, you know your children behave impeccably." I smiled up at her. She beamed back at three of her offspring.

"I am glad to hear that you are being kind to one another today." She turned back to me. "Nessanië said that she would bring the boys down after they ate."

"Oh good!" Silmarien's eldest, Alphros, clapped his hands. "We will have enough to play tag!" I had to smile at his enthusiasm. Nessanië appeared a few moments later with her four sons. I had to hand it to my brothers; they had done a tolerably good job ensuring the lineage of Dol Amroth. Between the two of them they had fathered six boys and two girls. All but one of the children had dark hair and grey eyes. Elphir's oldest daughter, Fíriel had the sweetest honey blonde curls and deep blue eyes. Some speculated about whether or not she really belonged to Elphir, but I knew for a fact that Silmarien's mother had blonde hair, and while blonde hair was uncommon in Dol Amroth, it was not completely unheard of. That was not even to mention how deeply in love Elphir and Silmarien were.

I greeted the newcomers with hugs and kisses, and we cleared away the lunch things to play tag. The baby fell asleep not long after Silmarien nursed her, and mother and babe retired indoors for an afternoon rest. We played a few games of tag, but the afternoon soon grew too warm for all the running around. I convinced the children to settle back on a blanket under a tree for stories and cold hibiscus tea.

We had just gotten comfortable when the sound of deep voices traveled over the hedges to us. I immediately recognized one of them as my brother Amrothos, but the other was wholly unfamiliar: warm and tinged with an accent. I was trying to place it when they rounded the corner and all guessing became unnecessary. The man with my brother was obviously King Éomer. I felt immediately anxious. I must look a fright. I could feel little wisps of hair coming loose from my braid and sticking to my neck. I was barefoot, and to make matters even more ridiculous, I was wearing a coronet of lilac blossoms one of the boys made for me. I could feel a blush crawling up my neck toward my face. I hoped I would be able to pass it off as a flush from the heat. Of all the ways I had imagined meeting the King of Rohan, this was certainly not one of them! I forced the sudden anxiety away, and rearranged my features into a cool smile. "Amrothos, I am so pleased to see you." I was grateful that Fíriel was sitting in my lap, allowing me an excuse to not get up and expose my bare feet. "And you've brought company." I allowed my eyes to travel to his companion. I was met by liquid hazel eyes that looked pleased. What could that mean? I wondered vaguely.

"Good afternoon, Lothíriel." Amrothos gave me a little bow, and I could see the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "I hope you do not mind the intrusion. Éomer was eager to meet you, and I know you like to spend the nice days here with the children." I cringed at the thought of having the glare the King of Rohan now sent at my brother aimed in my direction. He looked like he might strangle Amrothos.

"It is no intrusion." I replied, determined not to let him fluster me. "We were just about to begin with the stories. Would you like to join us?" Éomer opened his mouth in what looked like it would be a refusal, but Amrothos cut him off.

"We would love to." He strode over and sat down with the children. Éomer followed suit after a brief hesitation. He sat directly across from me and was immediately set upon by Anardil, Erchirion's second son, a lad of four.

"I'll sit on your lap." Anardil said, settling himself on Éomer's legs. I opened my mouth to reprimand him, but Éomer just shook his head and smiled.

"I don't mind." He looked down at Anardil. "What is your name, young man?"

"Anardil." The little boy grinned up at him, and I could not help but chuckle. Only one of my nephews would be so comfortable with a king. I took the opportunity to introduce each of the children, and Éomer solemnly shook each of their hands, except Fíriel, whose little hand he kissed.

"Shall we have a story, Aunt Lothíriel?" She looked up at me with her enormous grey eyes.

"Of course we shall." I wrapped my arms around her. "Which one would you like to hear?"

"The rabbit princes!" Her brother, Eärendur cut in.

"Does that sound alright to you, Fíriel?" I looked down at the little girl snuggled up in my lap. She nodded, so I proceeded. It was a simple story. A pair of princes turned into rabbits by an evil sorcerer. In order to be returned to their human form, they must find a hidden, magic stone. The children loved it, and clapped heartily when I finished. They immediately begged for another story, but the afternoon pressed on, and I knew that I had to clean up for the celebration tonight. "Perhaps we will have more stories tomorrow." I told them. I felt awful, seeing their disappointed faces, but it could not be helped. I enlisted the little boys in folding up our blanket and gathering up the tea things.

"You tell an enchanting story, my lady princess." Éomer told me, coming to stand beside me as I gathered up the children's shoes. I blushed.

"I learned it from my mother. She always told me and my brothers stories before bedtime."

"Your mother must have been an exceptional storyteller."

"She was." I agreed. Éomer looked like he might say something else, but at that moment Alphros ran up.

"Aunt Lothíriel, Anardil says he does not have to put his shoes back on, but I say he does, and he says Uncle Amrothos told him that he does not." I sighed. My brother was always stirring up the children. "Go tell Anardil that if Uncle Amrothos would like to carry him all the way home he does not have to put his shoes on." I knew very well that my brother would gladly carry Anardil home. The little boy had Amrothos wrapped around his little finger.

"Princess Lothíriel-" I lifted a hand, stopping him.

"Please, just Lothíriel. The title is so pretentious." Eomer smiled at me, and I could feel my heart race. He was a very handsome man.

"Lothíriel," Something about the way he said my name made my insides quiver. "I wanted to apologize for intruding earlier. I promise you, it was all Amrothos' idea. I never intended to impose." I shook my head.

"Please don't apologize. It was no imposition. They children seemed to enjoy having you here." I paused, considering whether or not to say what else was on my mind. I decided that no harm could be done by saying it. "I will say, however, that I wish our meeting might have been under better circumstances. I probably don't look anything like a princess." I looked down at my light cotton gown, smudged with dirt, my bare feet, and the now wilted coronet I held in my hand. He just laughed.

"No, you don't, but don't let that distress you. I am pleased to see that you are nothing like the other Gondorian women that have been shoved my way the past several months." I had to laugh at this.

"No properly brought up Gondorian lady would dare roll around in the garden with her nieces and nephews." I agreed, still laughing.

"Aunt Lothíriel," Fíriel tugged on my skirt and I scooped her up.

"Yes, sweetheart." I kissed her nose.

"Amrothos said that you must stop flirting with the King and take us home." My eyebrows shot up and I could feel a traitorous blush heat my cheeks. "What does flirting mean?" She asked innocently.

"Flirting means talking." I told her quickly, desperately hoping that Éomer was not looking too closely at my scarlet cheeks.

"Oh." She leaned her head on my shoulder. I did not look back at Éomer as we returned to the house, and he excused himself when we reached the back door to the townhome. Silmarien and Nessanië met us inside and took the children away to be bathed and have their dinners. The children would be watched over by a maid while we all enjoyed the festivities in Merethrond. My maid clucked her tongue disapprovingly when she saw the state of my hair and feet. She insisted I have a bath and wash my hair. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to pay attention to her rebukes about behavior becoming a princess. I felt genuinely mortified that the King of Rohan had come upon me in such a state in the garden, but he did not act like it was unusual to find a princess barefoot in a garden surround by a group of grubby children. He must be very different from the Gondorian noblemen who would have certainly been appalled at such behavior from a woman. And Amrothos' suggestion that we had been flirting made my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I did not think there was anything improper in our conversation, though the man did make my heart flutter, which was wholly unusual.

My father conscripted Amrothos as my escort for the banquet, and he gave me a cheeky grin as he took my arm. "Don't you clean up nicely, little sister." I glared at him.

"Oh, don't be too upset with me, Lothíriel." He led me into the crowded hall. "I promise you I meant well."

"You meant well?" I had to struggle to keep my voice level. "Amrothos, what were you thinking dragging the King of Rohan into the garden where you knew I would be completely unprepared for such an encounter? What must he have thought of me, barefoot, dirty, and wearing that ridiculous wreath?" Amrothos looked surprised as he navigated our way toward the head table.

"You must not see yourself very clearly, Lothíriel." He told me. "You looked quite lovely this afternoon."

"Don't tease me." I growled at him. "You might have very well ruined the alliance our father has worked so hard for." He just laughed.

"I don't think so, Lothíriel." He helped me into my seat. I was preparing a brilliant retort when I heard the chair next to me scrape on the floor stones. I turned to see Éomer sitting down next to me.

"Good evening, Lothíriel."

"Good evening, my lord." I worked to compose myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Amrothos smirking. I aimed a sharp kick at his shin under the table, but he anticipated me and jerked his leg out of the way just in time. The King of Rohan exchanged pleasantries with me over the meal, and when the tables had been cleared away asked if I would like to dance. I agreed, but was a little surprised when he steered me toward the adjacent gardens after only one dance.

"You look a little warm, Lothíriel. Perhaps a little fresh air would do you good." I felt a little suspicious at this, though it was very hot in the hall. He took my arm politely as we walked along one of the paths. The night was still young, and only a few other couples strolled in the gardens. I turned to remark on this, only to discover that he had led me into a very secluded part of the garden. I could feel my cheeks heating, and I wondered vaguely what his intentions were. Part of me hoped that he would kiss me, but I chided myself that this was irrational. Of course he would not kiss me. He was probably going to tell me that after our disastrous meeting this afternoon he had withdrawn from negotiations with my father. His voice broke through my thoughts. "You look like you're thinking very hard about something." His eyes were warm and held an amused look.

"Oh." I looked down shyly. "I was just pondering over why you would have brought me into the most private part of the garden. I am sure it is to tell me that after this afternoon you have decided to break negotiations with my father."

"What?" He looked astonished. "Why in Bema's name would I break negotiations with your father after this afternoon?" I shrugged.

"I'm sure you expected someone much more maidenly and proper. Surely you do not expect a woman found sitting in a garden surrounded by children to make a good queen." He burst out laughing. He laughed so long that I grew indignant. "Oh stop it." I crossed my arms.

"Forgive me." He chuckled a few more times before he was serious again. He looked me straight in the eye. "Lothíriel, you must be an absurd woman to think that I wasn't completely taken by what I saw this afternoon." I was taken aback by this.

"What?" He pulled me over to a bench.

"Sit with me a moment and I'll explain it to you." I allowed him to settle me on the bench, and he took both my hands. "Lothíriel, have you met my sister, Éowyn?" I nodded. "As I'm sure you noticed, she is not the most domestic woman. When she lived at home, Éowyn preferred to spend her days down at the sparring grounds or training horses. She was never the type to sit and tell stories to children or embroider." He lifted a hand to stroke my cheek. I shivered. "Lothíriel, I have lived with shieldmaiden all my life. Can't you see that a woman who is perfectly content to garden, embroider, and play with children is what I want?" I processed this for a moment.

"So you weren't appalled by my appearance this afternoon?" I felt silly asking the question, but I couldn't help it. He snorted.

"Hardly. I felt like I was looking at a vision of what my life would be if I married you."

"Oh." I let this sink in for a moment. "So you would be happy to marry me?"

"Thrilled." I felt his arm slide around my waist and my breathing hitched. "But that is only if you want to marry me." This surprised me.

"May I think on that for a moment?" He nodded and contented himself with twirling a strand of my hair around his finger.

This discussion was so unusual and unexpected I found myself struggling with it. No Gondorian nobleman would have given his potential bride the choice of accepting or declining an offer of marriage, but it was clear that Éomer was a different breed of man altogether. He struck me as kind, with a good sense of humor. He was certainly very handsome, and I felt perfectly safe with him. I thought he would make me happy, but could I make such a decision based on such a short acquaintance? "I think I would like to marry you." I told him after a moment. His face lit up. "You have been very honest and gracious with me. I think I will be happy with you." The arm around my waist tightened and I felt myself pulled against his chest.

"I promise to everything I can to make you happy."

"Just give me a garden and a few children." I laughed.

The End


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